


Moments Unnumbered

by MightyLauren



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Drabbles, KAW 2020, M/M, prompts, short form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyLauren/pseuds/MightyLauren
Summary: A collection of short drabbles and one shots featuring my OTP (Kalluzeb). A place to store prompt fills from events and other ideas that don’t fit into my long-form fic. Lots of fluffy stuff.  Some pining. A couple different love confessions.Stories are in no particular order and are not directly connected to one another. Though you’re more than welcome to head canon two of them ARE if you like.Also, feel free to leave prompts in the comments  ;-)
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	1. Prompt: Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbles will be added to this as they’re written/ on a whim.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

Kallus has never celebrated an anniversary in his life, and today was a big one. It had been one full standard year since he’d escaped from the Empire. 368 days of being a full-fledged member of the Rebellion. 

Zeb would tell him he was a rebel long before that, and by technical definition, he was correct. Still, Kallus preferred to believe his actual career in the Alliance began that day. The day Thrawn had found Atollon. The day Kallus had been discovered to be Fulcrum. The day he had managed to get the jump on some stormtroopers and get out. 

Also, not to be a sap, the day he and Zeb had become more to each other. 

A lot had happened in the past year, but Kallus would deem this last fact the most important and life-changing. 

So today, on the anniversary of that day, Kallus had made himself and Zeb a special meal. He’d been cooking away while Zeb had been unloading supplies they’d just returned to base with. 

The table was set, and the food was nearly done cooking. Kallus has even placed a vase of wild picked flowers in the center of the galley table. He’d snuck out and picked them from the last planet while guarding the Ghost. They were huge blossoms of red, purple, and blue, with broad curving petals that burst open like fireworks. 

He heard Zeb coming in as he set about plating the food. 

“You, dear, are just in time,” Kallus said, spooning healthy portions of the pasta dish that was his boyfriend’s favorite into bowls. 

“And I worked up a hunger,” Zeb said, sliding up behind Kallus for a moment, nuzzling briefly into the human’s neck before going to sit down. 

“Good because there’s plenty to eat.”

Kallus places the pot back onto the heating element, moving to sprinkle some special cheese on top when he heard the distinct sounds of his mate munching on something. 

“These appetizers are a good start,” Zeb said, his mouth full of something. 

Kallus turned to find his beautiful fool of a boyfriend with a stem in hand, the remnants of blue petals sticking out between fanged teeth. 

All he could do was laugh, setting down the plates to throw his arms around Zeb. 

It had been a year, and his boyfriend could still surprise him.


	2. Prompt: Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

“You just HAD to take the shortcut,” Sabine berated, arms crossed over her armored chest as she watched Kallus working diligently.

Zeb sat in his chair in the common area of the ghost, wincing with each of his mate’s tugs and pulls.

“Well, it WAS shorter. I beat you both back!” The lasat hissed these words through clenched teeth, closing his eyes as if not seeing meant not feeling.

“Yes, but at what cost?” Kallus asked from where he knelt on the floor, holding up one of the many thorns and burrs stuck throughout Zeb’s purple fur on his legs and arms. “Was your need to beat us in a race so strong you couldn’t even bring yourself to turn back once you realized you were waist-deep in this vile growth.”

Kallus reached over and allowed the tweezer he was using for this procedure to open and drop the thorn into the metal tray set nearby him on the floor. It landed with a soft clang among half a dozen the former ISB agent had already managed to remove.

“I didn’t realize the stuff was sticking to me so badly,” Zeb insisted. “Not till I was in so deep-going back was just as bad as going forward.”

The lasat winced again, as a burr slightly embedded in the skin of his calf was pried free then deposited in the tray. Kallus was trying to be gentle but despite his delicate ministrations each thorn and burr sent zings of pain when they were tugged free.

“Sabine, can you get some bacta, I’m afraid some of these could very well get infected,” Kallus said, with a haggard sigh. His golden eyes were worried as he looked up to his mate’s face. “This next one is going to hurt, it’s embedded deeply and at an angle.”

The long thorn in question was stuck into the lasat’s inner thigh, having cut through the leg of his jumpsuit to pierce through purple flesh. It hurt already, without even being touched or pulled upon.

“Well, you gotta get it out, Kal,” Zeb said, sensing the hesitation. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you kiss it better later.” He gave a winning smile, showing his fanged teeth.

Sabine, unfortunately, had returned in time to hear this, letting out an exaggerated retching sound as she deposited the medkit full of bacta patches next to Kallus. “There’s an image I didn’t need,” she said. “Need anything else?”

“No, I think I got it from here. Thanks, Bine,” Kallus said. The mandalorian left, and he turned back to his task. “Ready?”

Zeb nodded, and with a steady motion, Kallus removed the long thorn. The lasat let out a yelp and practically shouted his favorite curse.

“Karabast!”


	3. Prompt: Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

Zeb wasn’t a fan of Yavin IV. Atollon hadn’t precisely been cold weather-wise, but compared to Yavin, it was a temperate paradise. Their new base planet was HOT, and lasat were covered in fur.

Not to mention, the facilities were not exactly high tech. The only things with environmental controls were the ships, and those systems were typically powered down when planetside.

Needless to say, Zeb was hot.

Of course, he couldn’t help but notice he felt just a little bit hotter when Kallus was around. Particularly in his cheeks. Particularly when he said something stupid or got himself tongue-tied.

Zeb was a little more than relieved for the fur solely for hiding the blush.

He hadn’t noticed Kallus was attractive until he let his hair down, literally. Somehow when he was laced up tight in imperial garb with his hair shellacked back, Zeb wouldn’t give him a second look. But now?

Now Zeb has to actively tell himself not to stare when Kallus came around. Between the tan shirt that hugged the human’s chest muscles, the captain’s jacket that looked so at home across his broad shoulders, and the newly freed hair... there was a lot Zeb enjoyed to look at.

Like now, as he was helping Chopper with some maintenance on one of the A-wings, he caught sight of the former ISB agent making his way across the landing field taking to another intelligence officer. How could Zeb help watching when the sunlight was glinting off Kallus’ golden hair the way it was?

It would have been too much to hope the man would have been assigned to the Ghost crew. Zeb was only a little ashamed of the daydreams he had of the man flying off on adventures with them. Going on missions where he and the lasat would have a chance to fight side by side.

Zeb was staring again, his hand had frozen on the tool he was using.

Kallus finished his conversation, the officer wandering away, but he stayed. He seemed to sense eyes on him, slowly scanning until he came upon Zeb. Their gaze met across the distance, and Kallus straightened up, smiling.

It was moments like this when the lasat wondered if maybe, just maybe, this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Before he let these thoughts get away from him though a zing of electricity shot through him. Chopper has lost patience with him, squawking incoherently, and jabbing his would-be helper with his electro prod.

Zeb attempted to kick him, but the droid wheeled off, still beeping and buzzing. Kallus was laughing when Zeb looked back, and somehow it made the sting of electricity worth it.

In the end, Zeb would give anything to see Kallus happy. If he was lucky, maybe someday happy together. 


	4. Prompt: Rekindle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019

When Kallus had been asked to go undercover for the Rebel Alliance, he had agreed. He would have liked to say he’d agreed enthusiastically, but the truth was going away to serve as a mole for months had been a sacrifice. After all, he and Zeb had just come together.

They’d served the alliance side by side for some time, both stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the thing between them until the day the Death Star came knocking at their door. In the afterglow of victory that day, they’d finally had the long-awaited talk.

By the time Kallus went away indefinitely, it was no secret the two were in love.

Now months later, Kallus didn’t know where they stood.

The lasat had understandably been upset when Kallus took the post. He’d shouted and raged. He’d even gone so far as attempting to get assigned to the same place, but a tall violet alien didn’t fare well undercover. He’d tried to talk Kallus out of it.

Zeb never did fully understand that Kallus COULDN’T say no. The former ISB agent had debts to pay to Zeb himself, the Alliance, and the Galaxy as a whole.

Though they’d spent one last night together, Zeb hadn’t turned up the next day to see him off. Not only that, but none of Kallus’ messages had received replies as the weeks wore on.

The bottom line was Kallus wasn’t sure if they’d be able to rekindle what they once had.

The Ghost had been sent once it was time to extract him from the facility he’d been embedded in, yet when he climbed aboard, one purple face was missing.

“Good to have you back,” Hera said, as she hit the controls to close the ramp behind him. “Chop, get us out of here,” she added through her comm.

“Where is—”

“Zeb?” Sabine’s asked. “He’s in his bunk. I think he might be nervous.”

Kallus let out a sigh. “That makes two of us.”

He steeled himself with every wrung up the ladder, and ever step down the hall until he was face to face with their cabin door. Before he could back out, he hit the panel and stepped inside.

Zeb was hunched over the work table, his back to the door. The only sign he’d registered Kallus’ presence was the tenseness in his shoulders.

“Hello, Garazeb.”

“Kal,” Zeb said, not resuming his work on the bo-rifle before him. “Do you finally feel like you’ve paid your debt?”

Kallus let out the breath he’d been holding, stepping closer. “The only debt I have left to pay is to you.”

Zeb moved so quickly, the human barely registered it until he was enveloped in soft fur-covered arms.

“That was a good answer,” Zeb said. Then the lasat pulled away just far enough to give Kallus a tender kiss.

Something told Kallus they’d be just fine.


	5. Prompt: Bitter + Sweet = Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines 2019. In this one instance I combined prompts for two days to make one.

It had been a hell of a day for the Phoenix Squadron. From the time an abbreviated Fulcrum transmission arrived to the moment the Ghost hit hyperspace had been maybe a couple hours. Still, for Zeb, it had felt like an eternity. 

He’d been in a fog of worry for most of it. Worry for the rebels around him. Worry for his family, which was fractured in different directions attempting to hail back up. But above all worry for a man he’d come to care about in ways he hadn’t thought he could anymore. 

He’d realized it one day not long after they’d acquired the base on Atollon when he’d found out Kallus had helped Sabine and two other pilots to escape. Somewhere in his gut bubbled up something akin to hope but tinged with something else. 

By the time Kanan reported that Kallus was serving as Fulcrum, that second feeling had been identified as longing. Zeb spent idle times trying to remember exactly what the man looked like and thinking back to their time together on Bahryn. He tried not to remind himself of the fact that Kallus may not make it out of the Empire alive. 

For months Zeb would have given anything to see the man in person. It was the only way he’d ever be able to get a handle on how he really felt. The only way to ever resolve the feelings that fluttered around his chest when he heard Fulcrum transmissions. 

If anyone had told him the day that he’d get his wish would be hell, he would have hoped for it less. 

Still, despite all the stress and chaos, a big part of Zeb relaxed when the Fulcrum symbol popped up on the Ghost’s incoming transmissions. And now, as he finally stood before Kallus, he couldn’t stop the physical sigh of relief that escaped him. 

“Hello, Garazeb.”

The man looked battered and a bit broken. He leaned heavily on his good leg, his lip was split open, and one eye was swollen, but he was alive. 

Zeb acted before fully registering the decision before him. Kallus was in his arms against his chest before he had a chance to question it. A small part of the lasat panicked as the human stiffened in his grip, but a moment later, Kallus relaxed, letting out his own sigh of relief as he sank against Zeb. 

“Hey,” Zeb greeted at last. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“You as well,” Kallus said, voice muffled in the fabric of Zeb’s jumpsuit. 

It was a bittersweet moment. What was left of their squadron was packed into a handful of ships. Their commander was dead, having sacrificed himself to save the rest. Their future uncertain. 

But they were alive and, for the first time since a freezing night on a moon orbiting Geonosis, together. The rest would just have to fall into place. 


	6. Prompt: Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

“Zeb, General Sato wants to see you,” Hera said, as she entered the common area where Zeb was sitting watching something on the Holonet.

“Me?” the lasat said, he’d never once been called in alone to talk about anything. “What’s he want me for?”

“He didn’t say,” Hera replied. “But you better go. He’s in the command briefing area.”

Zeb clicked off the projector and rose, curiosity and nervousness rising in his chest. He couldn’t think of any GOOD reason why Sato would want to see him, so it must be a bad reason. Something must be wrong, though he couldn’t think what. Maybe something on Lira San. Perhaps he’d received a distress call from the new lasat homeworld.

He progressed quickly through the base, enjoying the beautiful Atollon weather and trying not to let his imagination get the better of him.

Nothing he could have theorized came close to the truth.

“Ah, Captain Orrelios,” Sato greeted. “Quite unusual, but our last Fulcrum transmission included an encrypted file, I believe it is for you.”

“For… me?”

“You’re designation is Spectre 4, correct?” Sato held out a data stick, looking somewhat nonplussed at Zeb’s hesitance.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Zeb said, at last, taking the proffered item. “Wonder what he wants.”

“I couldn’t say, the file is encrypted with a passphrase of some sort,” the commander explained.

Sato left him then, so Zeb hurried back to the Ghost, where he could sequester himself with a datapad to open… whatever this was.

He plugged the stick in, and immediately a question appeared on screen along with a blinking cursor.

‘Chase the answers, and maybe you’ll?’

Remembering the moment clearly from a very odd situation months ago, Zeb typed what had been the end of that statement.

‘Find the truth.’

————

Dear Garazeb,

I suppose by now your Jedi friends have told you that I have taken on the mantle of Fulcrum. I imagine it was a bit of a surprise for you unless you realized just how deeply our encounter on Bahryn affected me.

The truth is that once I returned to the Empire (which was by no means a small feat), I couldn’t get you out of my head. Every time I was given some order that didn’t make sense, I heard your voice in my head telling me to find the answers.

Let’s just say the answers I found led to my divergence from the Empire’s party line.

I’d be lying though if I said it was the only mitigating factor. The truth is that after our chance encounter on that snowy hell of a moon, I found myself missing you.

Maybe that sounds crazy. I myself don’t even know entirely how I feel, but I do know that I hope to see you again one day, and when I do, I wanted it to be as allies. When I do, I hope it will be as friends or dare I say, more?

Surprisingly yours,

Alexsandr Kallus

—————

Zeb sat stunned, rereading that last paragraph twice to ensure he’d actually read it correctly. There was no way for him to reply that he was aware of, and his heart ached for it.

He hadn’t known minutes before, but he did now: he would love to be more.


	7. Prompt: Accidental Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

The Rebel’s siege of the Imperial Complex on Lothal had gone sideways fast. Kallus shouldn’t have been surprised, but the first stages had played out so well he’d allowed a foolish hope to settle over him. It had evaporated in an instant when they realized the planetary shields were down, and Thrawn was there bombarding the civilians of the world with fire from above.

Now they were at the heart of the Dome, attempting to regain control of the shield generators, and Thrawn’s slimy pet was causing them trouble.

“Even with that bridge extended, there’s just too many of them!” Gregor shouted behind him. “We’re gonna have to do something drastic.”

Kallus didn’t hardly have to look to know the expression on Zeb’s face. To know the lasat was considering his drastic options. 

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said, springing away before Kallus could finish his plea not to.

“Zeb— don’t!”

It was too late, Zeb had tackled the creature into the power coils below and out of sight. 

“He’s crazy!”

Kallus couldn’t help but glare at the clone. “Well, it was YOUR idea.”

The seconds ticked ever by, and things only got crazier. Gregor went down, and when Kallus attempted to help him he shoved him away and told him to get the shield up. They were so close.

“I think we’re out of time, guys! Now or never,” Hera’s voice spoke through the tinny comm unit.

“NOW!” Ketsu declared from her console.

Kallus’ was ready, but Zeb was still down amongst the innards of the shield generator, if it was activated with him down there he would die.

“Zeb?” His voice betrayed a little too much, as he searched for reassurance the lasat has made it to safety.

“Don’t wait on me!”

It wasn’t a satisfactory reply and it took every ounce of Kallus resolve to hit the controls anyway, not knowing. It wasn’t until he heard Zeb’s voice answering Thrawn’s on a comm that he knew his friend had made it clear. 

As the teams dashed through imperial halls to get back to Hera and Sabine, Kallus seized his opportunity on a quiet stretch to snatch Zeb’s arm, pulling him back and aside.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he chided, shoving Zeb against a wall. He was likely only able to do so because he’d taken him by surprise.

“Do what? Help save our asses?”

“Don’t make me choose between saving you and saving an entire planet,” Kallus said, his fingers were clamped onto Zeb’s jumpsuit, and he shook the lasat with every beat of the statement. “What if you hadn’t made it clear? What if in activating the shields I had killed you?”

“So what if you had, we all knew what we signed up for,” Zeb growled. “We lost Gregor how would it have been any different if it had been me instead.”

“You fool lasat,” Kallus breathed. “Because I don’t love Gregor, I love—” He sputtered into silence, eyes wide as he realized what he’d said.

Zeb’s already enormous eyes went wider. The comm was buzzing as the others inquired as to what was holding them up, Kallus went to step away but Zeb seized him.

“Kal,” he said. 

“We have to go.”

Zeb pulled the man against him, face moving into the human’s neck, hugging him close. “Promise me we’re not done talking about this.”

Kallus rubbed a hand down Zeb’s back. “I promise but we need to move.”

Zeb nodded, disentangling himself and seizing the human’s hand. They ran together to catch up with the others, hearts just a little bit lighter than they had been.


	8. Prompt: Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentine’s in 2019.

Kallus could tell by the tone of Hera’s voice that something was wrong. They’d gone out on what should have been a routine op. A connection had dropped supplies on a planet and they were there to collect the goods and return to base.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go, but instead they’d been ambushed the moment they’d reached the drop. Kallus wasn’t there, he’d been left with the ship, because the planet had too high of an Empire presence and the former ISB agent was pretty high on the most wanted list.

So he’d bided his time in the ship until they’d called for a pick up. He could see the blaster bolts flying as he swooped in to pick up the crew, but amongst the chaos he couldn’t get a good bead on where Zeb was. Hera gave him the all clear to take off, so he did, zooming up through the atmosphere.

“Chop, take over,” Hera said through the comm. “Kallus, you better get down here.”

Stomach twisting in concern, Kallus let the warbling droid take over the helm, sprinted down the hall, and slid down the ladder without his feet touching a singe wrung.

Zeb was sprawled on the cargo hold floor, bleeding from a gash in his side, clearly unconscious.

Kallus was on his knees at the lasat’s side in a flash, throat suddenly very dry. It took the better part of an hour to mop the lasat up, and for Sabine to stitch up the gash in his side.

At no point did Zeb regain consciousness, and with each passing minute Kallus stomach knotted further. He never left his partner’s side, even as he was carried off to the medical facility on base. And despite every medic’s attempts to get him to get some rest himself, Kallus didn’t sleep.

He sat up in the chair next to Zeb’s bed and waited. 

“It must have been serious, you look like hell,” Zeb said, voice hoarse, eyes only just open enough to see the man clinging to his hand.

Kallus let out a breath, scooting the chair just a little bit closer. He didn’t want to tell him that there was a second when they thought Zeb might not make it. Didn’t want to admit how scared he was.

Truth was, he didn’t need to, it was written all over his face.

“I love you,” he said, leaning over the edge of the bed, his free hand coming to rest in the lasat’s chest, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his breaths.

“I love you too,” Zeb said. “Everyone else make it out okay?”

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Kallus said, giving a small smile and pushing away the selfish notion of scolding his partner for putting everyone else’s life above his.

“Worth it then.” He winced slightly as he extended an arm to touch Kallus’ face. “Hey, I’m gonna be okay.”

“You better be or I’ll kill you myself,” Kallus said, then he leaned down and kissed his partner gently.

It had been a serious injury and it probably wouldn’tbe the last one of them experienced. They were at war after all, but the partners were always there when the other came to. Because their love was serious too.


	9. Prompt: Silly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

The Rebellion wasn’t nearly as straight-laced as the Empire. It was something Kallus was still getting used to despite having fully defected over a year ago now. They knew when to buckle down and focus on pulling off some miraculous missions, but they also knew how to let loose.

The day they destroyed the Death Star in the skies of Yavin IV had led to probably the most jovial and over the top celebration Kallus had ever seen. Not that he blamed them, the entire planet had very nearly been destroyed, with a huge chunk of the Rebels, only for the blaster bolt to be dodged at the last second.

Alcohol wasn’t in short supply. Bottles that had been saved for months were being passed around. Kallus sat back, leaning on a pile of crates watching as Zeb swayed and sang with a band of revelers. Some had managed to dig up instruments, and dancing was commencing.

Kallus shouldn’t have been surprised when the lasat came to pull him from his solitude, seizing his arm and tugging him up off the crates.

“C’mon, Kal, this is a celebration,” Zeb said. “Let loose.”

“I do not ‘let loose’,” Kallus said, trying not to sound too much like an imperial stick in the mud and failing.

“First, time for everything,” Zeb insisted, still pulling him along. “Dance with me.”

Kallus sputtered in surprise, looking around at the sheer volume of people around them on the landing pad. They’d been in a relationship for a while, but they’d kept it quiet beyond a trusted few. Despite it not being the Empire, there were unfortunately still a few Rebels with old fashioned notions about inter-species relationships.

In fact, Zeb had threatened a few for saying rude things about Hera and young Jacen, who was half-human and half twi’lek. Kallus didn’t want to remind his partner of this and bring down such a jovial occasion.

So he allowed Zeb to pull him into his arms, and they were dancing. Not elegantly, it was more silly than anything else as the lasat threw the much smaller man around, and twirled with him chest to chest so fast that Kallus’ legs weren’t even reaching the ground.

Soon they were both laughing, cutting wide arcs through the gathered people, the last thing on either of their minds what a single one of them thought.


	10. Prompt: Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

Yavin IV was warm when they had first arrived at the Rebel base in spring, little did Kallus know that by the time it hit summertime it would be SWELTERING.

The heat was so bad that many rebels had resorted to wearing less and less clothing to survive. Men were often seen performing their manual labor without their shirts on, and women were turning up in tank tops that covered less and less. Kallus was too modest for this, so while he would shuck off his captain’s jacket, he kept his shirt on.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that Zeb would relent and start baring his chest around the base. Lasat, after all, had fur, which had to mean he was even hotter than the humans around him. So today, he had rolled his jumpsuit down to his waist, broad striped chest glistening with sweat as he helped move crates of ammunition for AP-5.

Kallus was sure he imagined that the sight of this made it just a little bit hotter out. He tried not to stare, but couldn’t help stealing longer and longer looks over the top of his datapad.

“So, when are you going to tell him?”

Startling, Kallus nearly dropped the datapad as he jumped. He usually prided himself at being aware of things such as his surroundings, but leave it to Zeb to be able to distract him so thoroughly. Sabine looked amused, smiling at the former ISB agent from where she’s clearly been leaned against an A-Wing watching him as he watched Zeb.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Kallus said.

“Oh, please, the only one who’s clueless about how you feel is probably Zeb,” she said, stepping forward to snatch his datapad away to stop him using it to hide his face.

“I… what?”

“You two are hopeless,” Sabine said, shaking her brightly colored hair. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence. He waited to make sure you were around to start striding around here topless.”

The heat outside was nothing to what was rising in Kallus’ cheeks. He chanced a glance at Zeb only to catch him looking their way across the landing field. He smiled and then promptly lifted a case onto his shoulders to carry off. He gave a jaunty salute before turning his back to walk off with his load.

Sabine laughed again, handing back Kallus’ datapad. “Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

With that, the mandalorian girl was gone, leaving Kallus alone with the heat and his thoughts.


	11. Prompt: Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

Cold didn’t begin to describe Hoth. When the rebels had relocated there, Zeb knew nothing of the tiny spit of a planet. Before arriving, he’d been warned it was cold, only to arrive and find this woefully insufficient of a description. 

He and Kallus had joked that it seemed all too familiar, and the first nights they’d enjoyed curling up together in their shared quarters and reminiscing about another icy planetoid that had brought them together. 

Their happiness on Hoth was short-lived. 

Less than a week in the pair had embarked on a small research expedition, the sensors on the base were picking up faint heat signatures out in the frozen hills and wanted to know just what creatures they were. 

It was sunny when they left but took a turn for the worst once they’d gotten nearer to their destination when a fierce snowstorm struck. It rendered visibility nonexistent and dropped the temperature so low their navigational handheld froze and died. They were lost, blind, and freezing. 

Kallus more so than Zeb. The lasat found a cave to shelter in, half dragging his mate in out of the wind. The temperature wasn’t much better inside, but at least they were no longer being pelted by snow. Zeb tried and failed to make a fire, everything was wet, so they huddled together against a wall trying to keep warm as best as they could. 

When the sunset Zeb knew they were really in trouble. 

“Garazeb, I don’t know if I’m going to make it out of this one,” Kallus whispered, his face pressed into Zeb’s chest, his body shaking violently. 

“Don’t talk like that,” Zeb said, pulling the ailing man even closer against him. “We made it off that moon. We will make it out of this.”

“C-colder here than on Bahryn,” Kallus replied. “Especially with the sun down, and this storm. If… if I go, promise me you’ll get the hell out of here.”

“You’re not going anywhere. And I’m not leaving without you,” Zeb scolded, immediately regretting how cross he sounded when Kallus pulled himself away to look up into his partner’s eyes. Those lips Zeb loved to kiss so much were now blue. 

“I love you,” Kallus murmured. “I never have adequately thanked you for saving me, for forgiving me, for loving me—“

“You kidding you’ve thanked me every day in our own way,” Zeb said, cupping Kallus’ face between his massive hood, running a purple thumb over his golden facial hair. “I need you. I love you. We are going to be fine.”

Kallus pushed up and brushed cold lips over Zeb’s before sinking back against the lasat’s chest and promptly losing consciousness. 

“Kal,” Zeb said, gently shaking him. “ALEX!” The man was alive, but his breathing had slowed, his pulse as well, Zeb clung to him, his desperate wails drifting off with the wind. 

Refusing to give up, Zeb kept rubbing his unconscious partners' limbs, kept him tucked tightly against him to maintain as much warmth between them as he could. He would kill for a meteorite that gave off warmth right about now, as he prayed to the Ashla. 

“Please, don’t take him,” Zeb begged. “And if you do, at least have the mercy to take us both. I’ve lost too many. I don’t know if I can lose this one and keep going. Please, Ashla.”

At some point, Zeb fell asleep, still curled around his partner. 

As he regained consciousness at first, all he saw was a bright blue light, and for the briefest moment, he thought he’d gotten his wish and was in the afterlife. Then he heard the soft hum and realized he was seeing a lightsaber. 

Standing before him was a sandy-haired young man, covered in snow, and silhouetted with sunlight. 

“You Zeb? I’m Luke, Hera sent me to rescue you.”

Zeb blinked, then checked and saw that though still unconscious, Kallus was alive, and now thanks to Luke Skywalker, they were going to be okay.


	12. Prompt: Everyday Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines in 2019.

Zeb’s morning was steeped in routine. This hadn’t always been the case, but since his crew went from a figurative family to an actual one, things had changed.

He woke as he did every morning, alone, with Kallus’ side of the bed already cold. His partner had set out his jumpsuit, though, ready to don and start the day.

Kallus was, as he always was when Zeb awoke, in the galley. Before the lasat made it down the hall, he could smell the caf and waffles, and it warmed him to his core.

Bent over a high chair, Kallus was wiping what appeared to be mashed fruit of some kind off the side of Jacen’s face while the tot bounced, laughed, and attempted to dodge away from the cleaning rag.

“Unca Zeb!” 

“Morning, Sprout,” Zeb greeted. “Good morning, dear.” He slid an arm around his partner and gave him a squeeze. “Where’s Hera?”

Kallus straightened up from the high chair, turning to pour a cup of caf. “She had an early brief, I told her we’d get him fed,” he said, handing over the warm cup of caf. “There’s waffles and meiloorun compote.”

“You spoil me,” Zeb said, sipping the caf before setting it down and going to serve himself breakfast.

As he ate, he watched as Kallus returned to feeding Jacen, zooming his small spoon around like a space ship to get the boy to open his mouth and let the food in. After a few successful bombing runs of whatever mashed concoction it was, Jacen took a mouthful in and then promptly sputtered it out of his mouth, splattering it across Kallus face.

Laughing hysterically, the tot began to chant, “Unca Sasha mess!”

Sasha was Jacen’s nickname for Kallus, a name the kid couldn’t pronounce at all. He was the only one allowed to use the nickname unless someone was talking to Jacen and referring to Kallus.

“What are you smiling about?” Kallus asked, wiping the food out of his facial hair, and failing to look annoyed, a grin sneaking through behind the rag as he wiped.

Zeb almost wanted to tell him that there had been mornings in his life when he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, hadn’t wanted to exist any longer, and that he couldn’t believe his life now. He couldn’t believe this man could love him, and that they were a happy couple helping a dear friend to raise a child. He couldn’t believe he could be so happy.

Instead, he just smiled, sipped his caf, and said. “I just love you, Uncle Sasha.”

Kallus was fully smiling now. “I love you too, dear.”

Jacen, who seemed to be feeling ignored, suddenly slapped his hands down on the high chair tray to get their attention. “Of you too Unca Zeb and Unca Sasha!”

“And we love you,” Kallus said warmly, “but we’d love you more if you’d finish your breakfast.”

“No!”

Kallus and Zeb laughed together. It was Jacen’s current favorite word and not a surprising response. So instead Uncle Sasha scooped up the child and scooted onto the bench next to Zeb so that the lasat ate his breakfast with the warmth of his mate pressed against his side, and the laughter of a child to fill the room and his heart.


	13. Prompt: Grand Gesture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written for 14 Days of Kalluzeb Valentines.

Kallus hadn’t known what to expect, as Zeb’s hand dropped away from his face. The whole trip had been secretive, so secretive it was a good thing he trusted Zeb with all of his heart. If anyone else had requested he blindly agree to accompany them to somewhere in wild space, he would have laughed in their face.

Though the viewport was a planet, with two smaller fellows orbiting around a star. The space around it was cloudy. They must be on the outskirts of some sort of nebula. Kallus didn’t have a chance to ask where they were before the cockpit door whirred open, beyond which were a handful of lasats, two of which he recognized from a mission in which he was still an ISB agent.

Zeb’s arm was slung around Kallus’ shoulder, squeezing him close.

“Welcome, welcome!” A hunched female lasat, leaning on a staff, said as she stepped forward. “We’ve heard much about you, Captain Kallus. Welcome to Lira San.”

“Lira San?”

Kallus turned to Zeb, who looked nervous, rubbing his free hand along the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s the lasat home world,” he said. “We migrated to Lasan at some point, but we came from Lira San.”

“How many?” Kallus’ throat had gone parched, his voice surprisingly weak. He’d thought he had helped the Empire destroy the lasat homeworld and nearly all the lasat with it.

“Millions, Alex,” Zeb answered. Tears welled in Kallus’ eyes despite his attempts to blink them back, he turned his back to the others, facing the viewport instead. “We just need a couple of minutes. We’ll come meet you at the shuttle.”

Kallus heard the door whir closed, and in an instant, Zeb was back at his side.

“Sorry, I should have told you before they got here, they were supposed to wait, this is all wrong. I—“

“So this is why you’ve been so nervous,” Kallus said, impatiently wiping the moisture from his cheeks.

“No, well not exactly,” Zeb answered, reaching forward to pull Kallus around to look at him. “This and another, bigger thing.”

“Bigger than showing me the lasat are actually alive and thriving when I thought they were nearly destroyed? What could be bigger than that?”

Zeb hesitated, swallowing and rubbing his neck again. Kallus hadn’t seen him this nervous since the day the lasat has plucked up the nerve to ask him out.

“Y’see I wanted to bring you here because I was hoping you would like it here,” Zeb said, now fumbling to get something out of the pocket of his jumpsuit, “because I was hoping if it did, we could make Lira San home. Our home. Together. You and me.”

Rings. Zeb has produced from his pocket a pair of rings, with glowing stones embedded in them.

“Zeb…”

“I had a whole thing prepared to say, and I can’t remember any of it,” Zeb said. “I just know that I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. Here. On Lira San.”

Kallus blinked down at the softly glowing tings. “Zeb, are you asking me...”

“To marry me, yes,” Zeb said. “Well, actually, to be my mate. Officially. In a lasat mating ceremony, just like I would have on Lasan. Then we can settle here. Build ourselves a little house in the countryside. Try to figure out how to live a life without war. What do ya say?”

“Yes, of course,” Kallus answered, without hesitation. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Here, I had these made from a meteorite like—“

“The one on Bahryn, I figured.”

For a moment after Zeb slid the ring on his partner’s finger and allowed him to do the same in return, they just stood there smiling at each other. Then the comm was buzzing, the other lasats getting impatient.

Kallus tugged Zeb down to kiss him once before they left to start their new life together.


	14. Prompt: Prisoner of the Empire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Kalluzeb Appreciation Week 2020.

Zeb had seen the interior to his fair share of brigs and prison cells; it was an occupational hazard after all. The one he'd found himself in this time was fairly unremarkable: the usual gunmetal black walls, the uncomfortably textured grating on the floor, the camera in the corner with its blinking red light reminding him that they were always watching. 

It was business as usual in the world of imperial incarceration, at least until they got to the interrogation aspect of this venture and ended his isolation.

He eyed the blinking light dubiously, tempted to destroy the thing just for some privacy. A human probably couldn't reach it, but Zeb was no human. He lifted himself from the floor, stretching his back and arms as he calculated a way to use the walls to reach the infernal device.

The lasat crouched, on the verge of pouncing, when the little red light blinked off and never came back on.

For a couple of minutes, he didn't move, staring and waiting for it to come back on. It wasn't until he heard clear sounds of some sort of scuffle outside that he snapped to attention, rising from his crouched position in time to see the cell door slide from sight.

Beyond it stood a man dressed in death trooper armor, a shock rod in one hand still crackling with energy, two regular storm troopers lie crumpled at his feet.

"We need to move."

Zeb shouldn't have been surprised to hear Kallus' voice, mildly distorted from the helmet, and yet the fact the man was standing heroically atop the fallen guards to spring the lasat from the Empire staggered Zeb. Somewhere in the distance, something exploded, which meant Sabine was likely there as well. This thought spurred him forward, and soon he and the death trooper with Kallus' voice were sprinting through hallways, a couple of which adorned with unconscious storm troopers.

"Spectre four retrieved, enroute to rendezvous point one."

It was here that Sabine turned up, and unlike Kallus, she was not undercover, her armor a bright splash of color in a dark black and white imperial space. As she skidded around the corner to join them, she tossed Zeb his bo-rifle, then unholstered her weapon.

"Loth-cat's out of the bag, gentlemen," she said, adjusting her grip on a bag she had slung diagonally over her. "Let's rendezvous with Hera and get the hell off this boat."

"Hera's here?" Zeb had found his voice, at last, nearly missing a turn in his surprise. "But she's-."

"Very pregnant, yes," Sabine answered, as the three of them slid to a halt by a lift, Kallus jabbing the call button. "Should have thought of that before you decided to go off on your own and attempt a solo break-in of an imperial facility."

In recent months Sabine was starting to sound more and more like Hera. He could imagine the looks she was giving him behind that helmet of hers as they squeezed into the lift.

"I don't suppose you want to tell us  _ why _ exactly you did this?" Kallus asked, taking the brief respite of the moving lift to remove the black death trooper helmet. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the running, and his hair was a mess from the helmet. 

Zeb thought he'd never looked more handsome. He didn't say this; instead, he mumbled out "not particularly" as the lift doors opened. 

There wouldn't be more time to discuss it until they managed their escape. It wasn't a particularly spectacular one, considering the many times the Ghost crew had evaded the clutches of the Empire, but it was still a feat. 

Sabine rounded on him the moment the cargo bay ramp began to swing closed, the motion of the ghost taking flight, causing them to sway. She dropped the bag off of her shoulder, and it fell to Zeb's feet. Kallus' back was to them, bent over the hatch controls. "The weapon makes sense, but what's with the rock?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

Zeb opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, spared answering when Kallus joined them, the sound of the Ghost entering hyperspace thrumming through the ship. Kallus eyed the lasat, examining Zeb as if to ensure he was whole. "Are you okay?"

"He's fine," Sabine said, unfolding and popping off her vibrant Mandalorian style helm. "I checked the system, and we got there before they got around to interrogation."

"Thank stars," Kallus breathed. He took a step closer, and then there was that hesitation. He curled his fingers and corrected his stance. Zeb had watched his dearest friend shy away from him in this manner many times before. "Mind telling us what was so important in that facility?"

Zeb could hardly hear the query over the roar of his own racing heart in his ears as their eyes met. At his feet, in the bag were the two things Zeb had told himself he needed to show Kallus how he felt. The man had just busted him out like a hero, and yet the lasat was frozen, afraid to confess. He swallowed down a lump in his throat and wet his lips unnecessarily. 

Then, in a fit of poorly executed inspiration, Zeb kicked the bag vaguely in Kallus' direction. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Kallus ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his, and moved his gaze from Zeb to Sabine, who shrugged, made an excuse about checking on Hera, and evacuated up the ladder and out of sight into the main ship. Kallus bent low, tugging open the closure of the bag. Zeb knew the moment of recognition, as the human's eyebrows arched high as his fingers wrapped around a familiar weapon grip. 

"Garazeb." Kallus' voice was breathy, as the bag fell from around his modified bo-rifle, a weapon he hadn't held since before he'd escaped the Empire at the battle for Atollon. "I was sure Thrawn had taken it whale watching."

Zeb laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, daring to allow himself a step closer. "I thought so too," Zeb said. "It was actually a bonus surprise when I got here." 

"Oh good, so you  _ didn't  _ risk your neck just to retrieve this," Kallus sighed, still looking down at the weapon, changing its configuration then snapping it back into place. 

Capitalizing on this distraction, Zeb crouched down, fishing into the crumpled bag until his fingers wrapped around the warm planes of the meteorite. It didn't glow quite as bright as it had on Bahryn, and with a fraction of the warmth, but it was whole, and back where it belonged.

Zeb was snapped back into the moment by the clatter of Kallus' newly returned bo-rifle clattering to the deck. His golden eyes were wide and fixed solely on the rock resting in Zeb's hands. He held it out, resting in his upward-facing palms, and without hesitation, Kallus stepped forward and covered it with his hands. 

"You kept it."

It was the fact that had kept Zeb hoping, ever since he'd found out. Kallus had kept the meteor.

"It reminded me of you," Kallus said, eyes rising from their hands joined around the meteor to meet Zeb's. 

"It reminds me of us," Zeb returns, bending slightly, bowing his head, closing his eyes, an invitation. An invitation the lasat knows full well the human may not understand or accept.

Less than a moment and there was the firm press of Kallus' forehead against his, the ghost of breath mingling just out of reach. "Us."

They stood like this for what felt like a long while, forehead to forehead, warmth of the meteorite held between them. Zeb knew there were words they needed to be saying, feelings that needed expression beyond this gesture. That would come soon, they'd carve out some time for privacy to talk, but for now, they had this.


	15. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three post mission conversations in which Zeb's crew-mates confront him about Kallus' apparent change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been rewatching specific Kallus arc related episodes to warm myself back up and get back to writing. And I just wanted to see Sabine coming to confront Zeb at the end of The Antilles Extraction and we didn't get it.
> 
> Then I lost all control and wrote 2000 words.

|-o-| Sabine |-o-|

“We need to talk.”

Zeb hadn’t even heard Sabine come up next to him; he was leaned back in his chair, music chirping out of the stereo, watching the sunset on Atollon. Dressed in imperial black and with hair still dyed a standard color, she almost didn’t look herself.

“You’re back!” Zeb greeted. “I heard there were complications.”

“To say the least.” Sabine hopped up on a crate, bending a knee and hugging it almost to her chest as she fixed him with an appraising look. 

“You’re alright?” Zeb asked. 

“Yes, thanks to a little help from a friend of yours.”

Zeb blinked once. Twice. “Friend of mine?” He sat up in the chair to look at her properly, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to work out exactly what that meant. “At an imperial academy?”

Sabine was searching his face, eyes scanning him. “Agent Kallus.”

Zeb’s blood ran cold, ears pinning themselves back to the sides of his head, a defensive position. “Kallus helped you. Kallus. You’re sure.”

“Yes, Kallus,” Sabine said. “Tall, blond, ridiculous facial hair, Kallus. He’s hard to mistake for anyone else, Zeb. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

The lasat’s mind was whirring, thinking back to conversations had over a glowing meteor on a freezing wasteland of a moon. He would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t thought of those conversations daily, thought of the man he’d had them with. He’d spent a long time trying to hash out _why_ exactly and thus far hadn’t made headway.

“What, exactly, did he say?”

“He told me to tell you that the two of you were even,” Sabine said. “Which means he owed you something. How, exactly, could Agent Kallus be in your debt?”

This information punctured the tiny balloon of hope that had inflated in Zeb’s chest. Of course, Kallus hadn’t actually turned. Zeb had been foolish to hope he had. The man simply felt he owed a debt to the lasat for saving his life on Bahryn. As it turned out, the agent did have a sense of honor; Zeb had discovered as much when they’d been stranded together. 

“Zeb?”

“It’s a long story,” Zeb said, attempting to stave off the interrogation. “And it’s irrelevant now. If we’re even, he won’t be any more help anyway.”

“You sound disappointed,” Sabine said, her eyes had not left his face.

“Karabast, you’re not going to let this go are ya?”

Sabine shook her head, a sympathetic smile. She didn’t push him further; instead, she let the silence settle over them, finally turning her eyes from him to the sky as she waited. She knew Zeb well enough to know that he’d spill, he just needed a minute.

“Remember that moon I got stranded on?”

“The ice moon you were stranded on _alone_? _That_ moon?”

“Yup, was there alone, no one else, just me and some snow,” Zeb rose from his seat, “nothing to tell, I’m sure you want to get out of those clothes and—”

“ZEB!”

“FINE,” he grumbled, but he didn’t sit back down. He paced the length of his little campsite one way and then again the other way. “I wasn’t alone, Kallus was there, are you happy?”

“I _knew_ it,” she breathed out. “Now talk.”

“Look, there’s not that much to say,” Zeb lied, trying to ignore the guilt bubbling up in his gut. “Kallus chased me into the escape pod. We fought. We crashed. And then…”

He broke off, looking to the sky, which was turning ever darker, stars starting to shine through. He let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. Sabine had never seen him like this. Although now that she considered it, she realized that he’d been off for a while, _since_ the moon. 

She slid off of the crate. “Let me guess, you saved his life,” Sabine said. 

“Not exactly a one-way street, I doubt either of us would have survived if we hadn’t worked together,” Zeb said. “It’s complicated. And it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s paid his debt now. So I’m sure he’ll be back to himself next I see him. Enemies again.”

Sabine was now sure she heard disappointment and dashed hopes in her brother’s voice; this was not at all what she’d expected when she’d come to have this conversation. She thought about the distorted voice of Fulcrum that had led them to Skystrike Academy to begin with, How quickly Kallus had acted to help them, and the risk he took by stepping in front of her unarmed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, bumping her shoulder into Zeb’s arm. “Maybe you got through to him?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice just a touch rougher than usual. “Maybe.”

|-o-| Kanan |-o-|

“We need to talk.”

Kanan had been back on the planet for all of an hour, and Zeb was, to an extent, surprised it had taken the Jedi this long to come and find him. He’d been expecting it, though it didn’t stop the muttered “karabast” from escaping his lips as he straightened up from the perimeter censor he’d been repairing. “Yeah, I figured you’d want to talk about Kallus.”

“Considering you withheld the fact we left an imperial agent on that moon we rescued you from, you should consider yourself lucky it’s going to be just a conversation,” Kanan said, sounding annoyed. 

“If we hadn’t, Sabine might have never made it out of Skystrike, and you may have never made it back off Lothal,” Zeb said, unable to keep the defensive tone from his voice as he rose to his full height. 

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Kanan said, tempering his voice. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to know now, I mean, Kallus defected. He’s _Fulcrum_. That’s big, Zeb, you turned an ISB agent.”

“I didn’t turn anyone,” Zeb said. “At least not intentionally, I wasn’t trying to recruit ’im I was just trying to … talk?”

Kanan didn’t say anything, and despite being blind, Zeb felt like the Jedi’s eyes were staring right to his soul. The lasat had a bad feeling the Force was being used to examine him emotionally, and the thought terrified him. He’d already decided that he didn’t want to think about any _emotions_ attached to Kallus, Bahryn, or anything else related to handsome imperials (or, possibly, ex-imperials he supposed).

“It’s complicated, we were forced to rely on each other, forced to coexist, and I… respect him now,” Zeb said.

“ _Respect_ is the word you’re going with?”

Zeb growled, brandishing the wrench he’d just picked up so he could resume his work. “You have another word for it?”

“Not one you’re ready to hear,” Kanan said. “Do you trust him?”

“Yes.”

The answer had come so quickly, and so surely it had surprised even Zeb. Kanan seemed to soften, he stepped forward, a hand coming to the lasat’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“I’m glad you do because I don’t,” Zeb huffed. 

Kanan knew better than to push it, even if he wanted more answers, wanted more details. He’d never seen the lasat like this about anyone, defensive, attached, and ultimately in denial. Hera would be better at probing him, but she was not quite ready to have an open mind about Kallus. 

Then again, even Zeb was struggling to have an open mind about Kallus at the moment. 

“Maybe in time, it’ll become more clear,” Kanan said. 

“Yeah, maybe, anyway, I better get back to this,” Zeb said. “Got two more to fix before I’m done.”

Kanan nodded, let his hand drop from his friend’s shoulder, saying nothing else as the lasat returned to his repairs.

|-o-| Ezra |-o-|

“We need to talk.”

Zeb had been looking past the young Jedi, gazing up the ramp into the Lamda class shuttle that had just landed. The look of expectant hope fading with each moment as he realized the person he’d expected to step off wasn’t coming.

“He stayed behind, didn’t he?” Zeb asked, shoulders sagging, ears wilting for good measure.

“It was a last-minute decision,” Ezra answered, nodding.

The stream of curse words that came out of Zeb was a mixture of basic, lasana, and another language the young Jedi was unable to parse. He let his brother let loose, falling into step next to him as he stalked back towards the Ghost. 

“Listen, I know that he wanted to leave,” Ezra said. “I could see it, especially when we talked about you.”

Zeb froze, the fur on his shoulders puffing up defensively. “Tread carefully,” Zeb warned before proceeded up the cargo ramp into the Ghost because this was shaping up to be a conversation he definitely didn’t want to be overheard. “Why were you even talking about me in the middle of a rescue mission anyway?”

“Oh please, like I wasn’t going to ask him—”

“Ask him _what_ exactly?” Zeb asked, rounding on Ezra in the cargo hold.

“If he defected for you,” Ezra said. “I mean, c’ mon, he spends one night with you, and he goes imperial spy for the rebellion.”

“He didn’t defect _for_ me,” Zeb rebutted, trying to ignore the wild hammering of his heart at the mere idea. “He _may_ have defected because of me, and the conversations we had on that moon, but that’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right, it’s not the same thing,” Ezra said. “So I guess, since you’re so sure, you don’t want to know what he said then.” The kid shrugged and made for the ladder up into the main ship. 

“Now wait just one minute,” Zeb growled, following by jumping from the bay floor to seize the bars above, vaulting over them onto the platform to head off Ezra before he could get too far.

“Oh, so you _do_ care?” Ezra asked, in an irritatingly patronizing tone, ducking under Zeb’s arm and proceeding to their cabin.

“No I don’t, I’m just…” Zeb balled his hands into fists then released them. “Curious, is all.”

“Right,” Ezra said, proceeding to change clothes, unbuttoning the stuffy imperial uniform top. “Curious.”

“You’re just winding me up, aren’t yeh?” Zeb deflated, trudging across the space and laying down in his bunk. He’d wanted to go on the extraction mission himself, but it hadn’t been allowed. Undercover wasn’t exactly Zeb’s strong suit. “You didn’t really ask.”

Ezra was down to his boxers now, slipping on pants with his back to Zeb. “Oh, I asked,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Can’t say I got a satisfactory answer, but the color of his face when I asked gave me some hints.”

When Zeb returned merely a confused look, Ezra let out a huff of a laugh. 

“He blushed, Zeb,” Ezra said. “He looked like an over-ripened meiloorun.”

“He didn’t.” It was impossible to imagine the straight-laced agent blushing, or in any way losing his composure. 

“I swear, ask Chop.”

Zeb would rather die than ask anything of Chopper, not that he would understand the answer even if he asked. Then again, the droid might just have video of the encounter, which would allow him to decipher for himself precisely what it all meant. It wouldn’t, however, give him the answers he really wanted. No one could do that except the man himself, and the man himself wasn’t here.

The lasat had inadvertently allowed himself to look forward to seeing Kallus, he’d spent most of the day imagining different scenarios that might play out once the man was there.

“Hardly matters, does it?” Zeb said, bitterly. “Because he stayed behind.” He rolled over in his bunk, putting his back to Ezra, not wanting him to see his face. 

“He said he could do more good there,” Ezra said, quietly. “I have to admit; I was skeptical about him before. I’m not now.”

Ezra was now fully dressed, watching his roommate’s back, waiting to see if he had anything to say to that. He wondered for a moment if the lasat had fallen asleep. Zeb was infamous for being able to pass out at the drop of a hat, but the lack of telltale snoring made that seem unlikely.

“He did say something when I asked that I thought you might wanna hear,” Ezra said. 

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“That he owed you his life in more ways than one,” Ezra said. “That someday he hoped to thank you in person. I should have realized when he said that he was already working out a way to stay.”

“He’ll never get a chance to now,” Zeb said. “They’ll never agree to another extraction mission for him. We barely got approval for this one. But thanks, for tellin’ me.”

Ezra didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, vaulting up into his bunk silently. Zeb shifted to his back, tucking a hand behind his neck, trying desperately to dismiss the mental image of a blushing Kallus lamenting about Zeb’s heroics on Bahryn. Or a heroic Kallus, self-sacrificing to stay behind enemy lines because it was where he could help the most.

“For what it’s worth,” Ezra said, his voice low. “If anyone can make it out, even without our help, it’s Kallus.”

No response was necessary, Zeb knew. He could hear Ezra getting comfortable, preparing for sleep. But he hoped the kid was right.

Rebels were good at hope.


End file.
